Max Payne: Broken Innocence
by UnicoFanFiction
Summary: Max Payne is a young office temp that left high school with little qualifications. Living in Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan he has little direction in his life, until tragedy strikes in the form of a horrific attack on an old friend. Max becomes intend on making things right in his own way.
1. 1 - FATE CALLED, AND LEFT A MESSAGE

I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THIS STORY. THIS FANFICTION IS SET BEFORE MAX JOINS THE POLICE FORCE.

Prologue

It felt good. I felt justified in that I had put right so much wrong that this shit head had caused and in particular for the torment that he had caused Jen. She had nothing to offer him, yet he decided for some reason that she would always remember him. I wasn't having that, and I had no intention of letting him, or anyone who associated with him, do it again. Ever.

Chapter one – "Fate called, and left a message"

3 days earlier…

It was a lazy warm summers evening on the streets of NYC as I walked back towards the apartment that my grandfather had left me after he passed last year. I missed the old timer, and in particular his stories. Both he and my mother were dreamers and I loved them both dearly – but ultimately I couldn't save either of them. I had just finished my shift in the office and had decided to walk the last couple of subway stops home. God only knows why, but fate seems to have a funny way of showing its hand when you least expect it – and today was absolute testament to that.

As soon as I got through the front door I noticed the flashing red light on the answer phone. I loosened my tie and lit up a cigarette. Smoking was my only vice, and damn it felt good after a long day of filing and having to listen to endless amounts of management bullshit about how good a career I could have If I was prepared to put in the effort - I always smiled but thought to myself, "_thanks for the great advice, but I would love to slap you about the head_". As for booze – I'd never been a big fan after the mess I had seen it put my family in.

I pressed play on the answer phone which beeped as the cassette kicked into life. I sat down and flicked the first length of ash into an already full ashtray as I convinced my self that the messages would be nothing but crap about something religious or a new product that I _simply HAD to try_, but I was instantly surprised when I heard the voice of the last person I could have thought of. It was Jen and she sounded happy. Jen always was. I was still trying to get my head around hearing her familiar voice as it had been a couple of years, so I missed the pleasantries but the last part of the message was to tell me that she was in town for a couple of days and wanted to meet up. I felt myself smiling before taking another drag of the ever decreasing cigarette. Meet Jen at her hotel? There was never a doubt in my mind about that.

My mind cast back to when we first met in the hallway at high school on the first day of a new semester. It was like a scene out of a movie. Here's this red-haired freckled-faced stereotypical American high school girl struggling with her locker, and in enters the also stereotypical cool-yet-moody boy to save the day! As I freed her locker, I instantly realised that she was different. I felt drawn into her conversation and I wanted to know more about her. I had that feeling think nothing else matters other than breathing and talking to this girl. I guess that's love, but the truth is, we never really made it any further than being the best of friends. Sure, there were moments where we took it further – but we were too close to introduce an angle where one of us could end up being heartbroken by the other. The years passed, and after high school Jen was heading for college to pursue her dream of being a journalist, where as I had absolutely no fucking clue what I was going to do each day - let alone as a job – but I kinda liked that though. This was the difference between us, and as she moved on - I stayed put.

I stubbed out what was left of my smoke and went to run the bath. Jen was staying in a hotel on the other side of town and she asked that we meet tonight. To say that I was excited about this evening was a blatant understatement.


	2. 2 - A CHANGE OF PLAN

Chapter 2 – "A change of plan"

Leaving the subway, I picked up a modest bunch of flowers and headed towards the hotel entrance. I took a moment to check my hair and gather my thoughts before I went into the lobby. I noticed out of the corner of my eye a couple of police officers at the reception desk talking to a member of hotel management, as I headed into the open elevator and pressed the button for the 14th floor. Jen had left her floor and room number on her message. The elevator seemed to take forever, but it gave me the chance to drift back in time again and in particular to the first time we actually took things a little further. We were both nervous and fairly inexperienced, but she made things feel right. I wondered if this situation would be a similar one as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. However all thoughts of that nature were torn straight out of my mind like bullet bursting out of a gun, as the corridor was littered with police officers. At first I thought that some poor drunken bastard must have took his own life, as for all that the situation was busy – it was quiet. As I approached where Jen's room was indicated to be, I was stopped forcibly by a surly uniformed police officer. "Sorry Sir, you can't come past here. Please turn around. Thank you."

"Officer, I'm here to see a friend who is staying in room 1403." I replied defiantly.

"Room 1403?"

"Yeah – Jennifer Henderson." I stated firmly, presuming that Jen never got married. "Is she ok?".

"Stay right there please Sir." The officer said, as he then turned and shouted down the corridor "Detective Birch, I think we have a friend of the victim here that you might want to talk to".

"Victim! What the hell do you mean! What the fuck is going on here!" I blurted out with a sense of panic. A thin suited man in his late 40's or so stormed straight towards me. "Son, how do you know the victim?" said Detective Birch assertively.

I tried to push past the officer that now had an arm across my chest – but he restrained me with his hands on my arms. "Stop calling her a victim! What has happened to Jen?" I demanded.

"Calm down" Birch said as he pointed at me. "She isn't here. She has been taking to Hospital as it is seems that she has been assaulted and raped."

I suddenly felt numb, and I found that I had to lean against the wall. "I...I…when…when did this happen?"

"Come with me. Let's get out of the corridor. We are going to have to have a chat" Birch said more calmly, as he made a gesture to the officer, who then released his grip on me.

As we walked into room 1403 and saw the state of the room, my body somehow started to feel even more numb than it did before. "Please detective, tell me what the _**fuck**_ has gone on here!"

"The hotel reception had received calls from nearby rooms about two to three hours ago complaining about screaming and what sounded like a man and woman arguing. By the time that we had got here there was no-one else here other than your friend...".

"Jen!" I quickly corrected him.

"Yeah Jen." Birch continued "Who was lying on the floor unconscious, but from her ripped clothing and face and leg wounds, we strongly believe that she had been raped."

I felt a strong urge to grit my teeth and start hitting something – and hit it hard. _Why Jen? Why did this happen to her!_

Birch continued, "We are starting our investigation immediately and I can have one of my officers take you to the hospital she is at if you would like?".

"Yeah, I need to see her please". Birch stepped out of the room, and I swallowed hard. My head was full of images that no-one should ever have to think about. I looked about the room, and tried to take in what could have occurred. As I looked about, I spotted something on the floor under the bed. It was a book of matches with a couple missing. The writing on the front said "Flanaghan's Bar" and the address was here in NYC. Jen wasn't a smoker, or at least she never used to be, but either way – this was information. My initial instinct was to give it to Birch, but something switched in my head which told me not to give this to him.

Something told me that it was me that needed to "serve and protect" Jen.


	3. 3 - POISONING OF THE MIND

Chapter 3 – "Poisoning of the mind"

My mind was blank as I sat in the back of the squad car with my head against the window. The officer that was driving was talking, but his words just seemed like a distant echo in some dream that I couldn't wake up from. I kept asking myself "_Why Jen?_". Until a few hours ago I hadn't even thought about Jen in years! The drive seemed to take a while but eventually we arrived at the hospital. The officer walked me through the wards. I briefly hoped that when I got to the room, that it would turn out not to be Jen, and that it was someone else who I had never met before. Opening the door instantly removed that brief shred of hope as I caught sight of her fire red hair.

Jen was still unconscious and the closer I got, the more evident her wounds on her face were. _Man, someone had really messed her up – the bastard_! I held her hand and just stared at her. _Jesus Jen – I can't believe that this has happened to you._

I had sat by her side for about three to four hours when she started to come round.

"Hey Jen. It's me Max. How are you feeling?"

"Max. You look like shit!" Jen said softly. That's Jen – she always looked for a way to try and bust my balls.

"You know – you don't look to great yourself at the moment. What the hell happened to you?" Jen took a large breath, "I'm not sure Max, but I'm pretty sure they followed me back to my hotel today."

"They!" I said stunned by this revelation "How many Jen?".

Jen closed her eyes and turned away from me as if she was riddled with shame, "T…Two of them". Jen started to fill up with tears. I stood up over her and leaned in to give her a hug, when she let out a whimper.

"What's hurting?" I asked. Jen just looked at me with eyes full of tears. "Please Jen. What is it?"

Jen now burst into tears and pulled her sheet from over her body. I took a step back and put my hand over my mouth with shock.

_Jesus fucking Christ!_ The insides of both her thighs were deeply cut multiple times. _Oh Jen! How could they do this to you!_

As I got over the initial shock what I had seen, I noticed that the cuts were not random. It was clear as I moved closer that her attacker had left his mark – in more ways than one. Her left inside thigh was marked with a crude "X" and the right with a similar "Y".

I covered Jen back up with the bed sheet, and placed my hand on her cheek. "What did the motherfuckers look like that did this to you? Do you remember anything about them?" I demanded.

Jen swallowed hard and wiped away her tears. I sat back down next to her and listened as she told me everything that she could remember. I took everything in, but the more she told me – the more I longed for a way to be able to forget it all. It felt like a poison was being slowly released into my head.

Jen described in harrowing detail that her hotel room door was kicked in and two men entered. One man punched her numerous times then threw her on the bed. He then held her down by pinning her wrists above her head on the bed. The second man then took a knife to her clothes – raped her – then left his permanent mark. Jen described the first man as being in is late-30's, well built and with a completely bald head. Jen had also noticed that he had a tattoo on the inside of his left arm – but couldn't make it out properly. The other cocksucker was an older man, maybe in his 50's, who wore a shirt and tie which Jen thought made him seem to me a "mafia" type.

"Get some rest. I'll be back to see you soon. I promise" I said softly.

"I'm not going far Max" Jen replied as she closed her eyes.


End file.
